


Pretty Petals of a Decaying Flower

by Anonymous



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (but no Political Jon), Apocalypse, Character Study, Dark Dany, Dysfunctional Family, Elements from the books show up, Heavy Angst, I try to be even handed, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Not Beta Read, Politics, Rape Recovery, Sansa's relationships are examined, Sansa-centric, Slow Burn, abuse recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-11-28 21:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18214100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sansa deals with the aftermath of Jon kneeling among many other problems all while her mental health and relationships deteriorate.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you dislike Jonsa or Dark Dany click back.

Long after they buried Littlefinger, Sansa finds herself sitting on her bed reading Jon's last letter with Littlefinger's voice in her head. Daenerys Targaryen was beautiful and Jon was unmarried. Over and over again until Jon's words had a sly edge. Did he kneel because he couldn't resist the Targaryen or did the Targaryen offer him a union far more rewarding than one any Northerner could give him? Sansa had no answers and it muddled her head. She needed to prepare for an entire army and two dragons, she needed to make the lords understand what was happening. There was so much work to be done within and outside of Winterfell. Entire days passed by as Sansa put out one fire after another while keeping the loyalties of the lords; she'd find Lord Glover and flatter him the way she thought Jon would do. She'd corner Yohn Royce and speak about their shared relatives. Slowly she made overtures for the grain stores in the Vale and slowly it was becoming increasingly clear that while the Vale would fight with the North, they would not just give her the food. Weeks ago Sansa sent an emissary to Braavos for a loan but if Bran's misgivings tell her anything, they would not get there in time. Soon Sansa would have to present her case and hope her word was enough. 

Sansa should sleep but she has an unexplainable feeling that there would be nightmares waiting for her. Instead she put down Jon's letter, wrapped herself in a blanket and continued working by candle light. Some of the few remaining memories of her father involved him sitting by his desk writing, only he finished early so he could sit in the hall with his family and men. Sansa preferred eating with her mother so she learn to take care of a household. Sometimes while Arya chattered to Jon about the problems their father solved, Sansa would eavesdrop. Once in a while Sansa would sit in the hall and pretend she was engrossed in her food as there was no one to talk to. Father's right side was usually occupied by a lord or castellan or traveler and by his left was Arya and Bran listening raptly. Sansa wished she had fought for one of the seats so she'd know how to talk to the Northern men under her command but she didn't, she never liked thinking about the reason why.

At dawn, she was tired enough that she could sleep and have no dreams. A short while later Brienne woke her up. As quickly as Sansa could, she bathed and cleaned her teeth, then she braided her hair as her mother had stressed the importance of looking well put together. Immediately she could tell it would be a long day as there was a crowd near the stores. When she arrived Olyvar, a one handed man she put in charge of the food, gestured her to follow him away from onlookers.

"Weevils," he said quietly. "And rats."

"I thought winter would kill them," Sansa said dismayed. "How many bags?"

"A hundred," Olyvar said unhappily.

Sansa's eyes widened. "A hundred. In one night? No, you must have missed them for a while."

"I'm sorry, my lady," Olyvar said with downcast eyes. Sansa resisted the urge to say something biting.

"Kill the pests. Separate the spoiled food from the good ones. I have feeling there'll come a time when it wouldn't matter the state they're in."

Almost instantly Sansa's temple began throbbing. Before she could talk herself out of it, Sansa asked five nearby laborers to bring the lords of the Vale to her solar.

"Brienne fetch Bran please."

The knight wordlessly obeyed. Sansa schooled her face to a neutral expression and barked orders as she walked from one courtyard to another. She had some of the servants bring any chair they could find and told them to follow her. Sansa had thankfully arrived first and had a few moments to arrange the seats. Some were rickety and some were sturdy, most of the lords and knights were young and wouldn't mind the former sits so Sansa arranged them in such a way that there wouldn't be a group of young knights together without an older, wiser one in the middle. Slowly they trickled it, testing the seats and exchanging them when someone complained. Sansa greeted them and quickly started using courtesy to pass time, leading them to tease Lord Waynwood about his wife's pregnancy until everyone was relaxed. Brienne wheeled Bran in a while later and from the wetness on his clothes Sansa knew he was by the weirwood tree.

"My lords," Bran said. He had gotten better at smiling and adding inflections to his voice but he did not like looking at anyone anymore.

Sansa put on her composed face once again and began. "My lords, I have received word from Jon. Daenerys Targaryen has decided to abandon her quest for the Iron Throne to fight alongside us against the Night King. Jon confirmed Lord Umber's sighting of dragons saying that they went to capture a wight for Cersei Lannister-"

"Cersei has no army," Lyn Corbray said in his usual sneering way. "The dragon queen-"

"Why bring it to Cersei?" Arys Moore, a wizened man sitting next to Corbray, asked.

"A truce," Bran answered. "So that Cersei does not act while Daenerys fights for the North."

"Cersei also promised to send what's left of her army to help," Sansa said. "We now have tens of thousands of men coming into the North. My lords, we barely have enough to feed people for a year. An army of that size would eat their way through the stores. It's why I have asked you here. We need whatever is in your granaries or we will perish."

Angur Waynwood shifted while he spoke. "Lady Stark for your sake we came to defeat the Boltons and correct the injustice that was done to your family. We will fight the Night King to the bitter end if we must but the food... we have families too and many smallfolk."

"I understand," Sansa said quickly. "I have sent men to Braavos for a loan to pay for whatever you're willing to sell."

They murmured to themselves and finally Yohn Royce spoke. "Truth be told Lady Stark, we have not had a good harvest despite the long summer. We also sold grain to Essosi merchants because Myr and Lys intend to go to war again. What we have might not be enough for both of our kingdoms for too long. What if the North falls? It's easier to attack the Vale than to go past the Neck for the Riverlands." 

Sansa's hands were trembling but before she can say anything, Corbray said, "Ask the Reach."

Sansa licked her lips. "The Lannisters raided the Reach-"

"I'm sure your brother convinced Cersei to send some wagons," Corbray said looking intensely at Sansa.

"The food was destroyed during the battle with Daenerys. There's nothing left," Sansa replied. There was a moment of stunned silence.

"I'm sorry but it is now urgent that we keep the food in the Vale," the teenaged Lord Templeton said.

"Yet the Faith dictates that we help those in need. We cannot allow the North to starve," Lord Hunter, who was her father's age and who sat behind Lord Templeton, said.

Bran raised his hand and everyone quietened down immediately. Despite his best efforts, it seemed there was fear whenever people remembered him. Once all Bran did was bring smiles on people's faces.

"If the North falls, you all die. Everyone you love will die," Bran said in his lifeless voice. Sansa wondered if he was doing it on purpose to remind them who they were talking to. "When I became the Three-Eyed Raven, I saw everything that has ever happened. All the good, all the evil... people I have never met murdered, women raped..." Sansa's heart jumped. Bran frowned. "I have seen such horrible things that you cannot imagine. I wouldn't wish this on anyone but there's a reason why I needed to see it. The Night King had brought war to the living before the Wall was built. It was because of him that bitter enemies fought together as allies. I have seen him reduce entire towns and villages to nothing, hundreds of thousands of wights sweeping over everything. It took everything we had to force him back." Sansa couldn't move. Bran's eyes were glazed but there was no mistaking the horror in his voice. "If he destroys the North, he will have more wights than anyone can beat. Our best hope is to defeat him here. We can't defeat him if we're starving."

The silence that followed was long. Even Corbray with his disdain for everything was pale.

"I will repay you," Sansa said suddenly. "On my honor as a Stark, you'll have the money."

Yohn Royce nodded. "I shall send the raven...." He cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should all send one while we have a chance."

One by one they left until it was only Sansa, Bran and Brienne. Sansa's headache was so strong now that she felt feverish.

"Bran," she said feeling her eyes burn, "I didn't realise." She was so busy feeling a hundred eyes on her after each nightmare that she didn't think deeply about what he told her. "I'm so sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Bran said turning his head towards her but avoiding her eyes. 

Sansa could feel tears falling from her eyes. "There is.... Is there a way I could take some of the burden?"

Bran blinked in surprise for the first time since they reunited. "You’d want to?"

Sansa nodded before quickly stopping as the pain became severe. "Yes, if it'll help."

"I don't think you can," Bran said. His eyes briefly made contact with Sansa's. "Thank you. It means a lot. I have to go back to the godswood, there's so much I must understand."

Sansa grabbed his hand, which was no longer red from the cold, and said, "If you want to talk, I'll listen."

Then she was alone for a moment while she tried to stop the tears. Sansa spent the rest of the day preparing the land around Winterfell for Daenerys Targaryen's army to camp, had the guest chambers readied and finally ate something. In the afternoon, Lyanna Mormont came into the solar leading a group of Northern lords.

"Is it true?" Lady Mormont asked impatiently. "Has the King convinced the Targaryen to fight with us?"

Sansa sighed. "He has."

Lord Glover narrowed his eyes. "What was the price?"

"Sit please." Once they did, Sansa braced herself. "Jon knelt to Daenerys Targaryen."

The uproar was as expected. Sansa was glad that they were all shouting at the same time so she could not understand whether they were insulting her or not.

"My lords and ladies," Sansa said placating. "I understand you're angry-"

"Angry!" Lord Manderly shouted. "How many wars have we fought so we can rule ourselves for him to just kneel? To a Targaryen of all people!"

"He would never just kneel. The situation is much worse than we expected," Sansa said and she was happy to note that it stopped them. "The Night King has found a way to cross the Wall," Sansa lied. "It's only a matter of time before the Long Night begins. Jon had to make a choice, our pride and yes, all the blood we shed or our survival."

Lady Mormont grimaced. "I mislike this, Lady Stark. The North will not kneel. No matter what."

"We fought alone before and we can do it again," Lord Glover said with steel in his voice.

"I didn't say you had to kneel," Sansa told them. "Just that Jon did and now we have two dragons and more fighters.... The lords of Vale agreed to send for more food. I think it's time we evacuated all the villages and keeps near the Wall."

When Sansa looked at the door, she found Arya watching her as she did the day Sansa was offered the crown. Sansa's heart was beating when she remembered the wet, bloodied faces in Arya's chamber. When the meeting ended, Sansa walked with Arya to the Lord’s chamber.

"How was the hunting?" Sansa asked along the way.

"We will have killed every animal by the end of the week," Arya answered bored.

"Good. The more meat the better. With the way Ghost is eating, we might-"

"Jon knelt but you haven't," Arya said as if she's repeating something.

"Yes?"

"The Targaryen will expect everyone to acknowledge her power over the North and you want to fight her on it," Arya said in that slow, deliberate way that Sansa has grown to hate.

"Do you want to be ruled by a Targaryen?"

"No but Jon made his choice. I don't want him to stand alone."

"Robb went to war so we don't have to answer to Southerners, thousands died for that. Jon knows he'll be alone in this," Sansa replied as Arya walked closer and closer until they were almost touching. She hoped the way she swallowed and her hands fidgeting would seem normal. She hated Arya's smugness more than anything.

"Not if you convince them to," Arya said now walking with her hands behind her back. "'The pack survives' remember? We need to stick together."

Sansa had nothing to say that could not be used against her. She could not stand behind Jon's actions, not when it would lose her all authority and hard won respect.

"I shall feed Ghost tonight. Perhaps he should sleep in my chambers too," Arya said finally pulling away. Sansa shrugged, the direwolf preferred Arya's presence anyway.

At the end of the day, Sansa massaged his aching feet while she calculated how much salt and honey they would need for the meat they hunted. On her bed was Jon's letter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, this is not beta read.

Ramsay promised to corrupt her like he did Myranda. Sansa liked lying to herself but even she could realise he was telling the truth. It would explain the shameful thoughts she has about Jon the morning he was supposed to arrive. Sansa scrubbed the skin of her thighs until they were red but she still didn't feel clean and it made her scars stand out. By now the whole castle was cleaned and readied. The grounds out of the castle had been flattened as much as possible and old wells were filled with water collected from the falling snow. Half the North's army was there camping with the Knights of the Vale. Sansa felt it was important the Targaryen knew they weren't helpless without her. The dragons were a difficult issue to prepare for; Sansa knew from her books that the beasts were very large and dangerous. She unhappily built barns out of wood to store deer and goats for the dragons to eat.

At midday, she saw rows of what must have been the Unsullied approaching. Specs in the sky grew larger until two dragons flew over Winterfell. It was nothing like she had ever seen but the first thought that came to her was that they stunk of rotten meat. Sansa left the battlements and went to stand by the main gates. The entire yard was purposefully sparse with the exception of guards. Jon entered first wearing the fur cloak she made him months ago. Behind him, wearing white fur, was unmistakably the Targaryen. She was smaller than Sansa expected and she looked soft, almost childlike from a distance. The Targaryen looked around though she was too far away for Sansa to tell what she was feeling. Jon got off his horse and went immediately for Sansa. Without thinking Sansa opened her arms and embraced him tightly. She sighed and melted a little but she forced herself to open her eyes and saw that the Targaryen and the man who must be Jorah Mormont had dismounted near the other wall.

"Sansa, please," Jon whispered before he let go and moved away. "This is Queen Daenerys and Ser Jorah," Jon announced. 

Daenerys walked towards them with a fixed smile on her face. She was reached out and took Jon's hand in hers. Sansa thought she saw his mouth twitch upwards.

"Winterfell is yours," Sansa said.

"I expected more people," Daenerys replied still holding Jon's hand, still smiling. Daenerys had fuller, wider lips that curled upwards. Sansa wondered what it would be like to kiss them. She could only imagine Jeyne's lips, years after they'd gone under the covers and pressed their mouths together. Sansa's chest had almost burst and she was sure they'd get caught but there had also been a thrill that warmed her body and made her hands shake. It was almost similar to what she felt when she and Jon looked at each other at the end of their last argument. Septa Mordane would roll in her grave if she had been given one.

"They are at the Hall. I'm afraid there has been some grave news," Sansa said. For a brief moment she wanted to tell them but something in her kept her mouth shut as she led them to where the meeting was being held. She saw from the corner of her eye a group of Unsullied and Dothraki entering and quickly catching up.

The Hall grew quiet as soon as she entered, the silence became icy the moment they saw the Targaryen. Bran was sitting at the head table with Arya who stood up when she saw Jon before slowly returning to her seat. Sansa nodded at Bran so that he could repeat what he saw in his visions. The Targaryen left Jon's side as Bran described an undead dragon destroying the Wall allowing the army of the dead to cross. When he was done, she was breathing heavily. Lyanna Mormont, who had been glaring at Jon, rose.

"The Wall was the only thing standing between us and death. The Night King can raise the dead and yet you didn't warn us about a dragon dying," she told Jon.

"I had no idea," Daenerys said in a faraway voice. She seemed to be coming back to herself. Tearing her gaze off Bran, she said, "Dragons are fire made flesh. I killed the Night King's wights and I didn't think he could corrupt my dragon."

"Oh Targaryens," Yohn Royce said laughing without mirth, "always thinking they're infallible. You have brought the end of days to our doors and you-"

"Daenerys," Jon said loudly, "has agreed to help us, asking nothing in return-"

"You knelt!" Lord Glover shouted and suddenly they were all on their feet. The Unsullied and Dothraki surrounded their queen, drawing their weapons. "She asked and you gave her what you had no right giving."

Shouts of "traitor" started filling the air. Sansa knew she should say something but her throat was dry. Jon stood between the furious men and his Daenerys, an image so striking that she might have stopped breathing briefly.

"Enough!" Arya screamed. 

"My lords," Sansa said loudly. She could see faces turning towards her. "The Night King will soon reach the first keeps of the North. We don't have time to fight among ourselves. We need to act."

Jon looked at her with gratefulness. "The sooner we unite, the better the chance we have."

"Unite behind what?" Lady Mormont had not stopped glaring for one moment. "Now that your Queen has helped the Night King, you expect us to kneel to her?"

"No one has to kneel to anyone," Sansa said before Jon could speak. "We need to make sure the Night King has fewer people to add to his army."

The hall emptied as the lords went to rally their soldiers though none of them were happy. Bran was now writing on a piece of parchment and Arya brushed past Sansa who shivered. She ran into Jon's arms with a small cry of joy and they stayed like that for several long moments.

"That was not what I expected," the Targaryen said with a huff that might have been laughter.

"The North is loyal to its own," the Mormont knight told her. He sounded disquieted and had earlier made an aborted move towards the Lady Mormont. 

"You told me my father was hated but it seemed they hate me more."

"Once they know you, it'll change," Jon told her. Daenerys smiled at him before turning to Sansa.

"I was told that you have live animals for my dragons to eat?"

"They'll be fed once they land... by some of your men," Sansa hurried to clarify. "My castellan shall show you your chambers. Afterwards there's be a feast-"

"I'd rather not be shouted at twice in one day," the Targaryen said grimacing.

"It'll be a small one for the family and guests," Sansa replied. She realised she hadn't smiled once since they arrived. Her mother would castigate her for it but trying to smile now would make it obvious how much effort it took.

When Sansa left, Arya followed walking close beside Sansa once again.

"You told them they didn't have to kneel."

"Are you mad?" Sansa snapped. "Didn't you see how angry they were? Perhaps you should tell them to kneel if you feel so strongly about it."

"They were calling Jon a traitor and you stood there!" Arya was now uncomfortably close but Sansa didn't care.

"That's because he is," Sansa replied with venom and she stormed away. On the way to the battlements, she met Tyrion Lannister. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he was waiting for her.

"Lord Lannister."

"Lady Stark."

"You didn't come in with your queen."

"I thought it would be best if a Targaryen *and* a Lannister didn't arrive at the same time. That might be too much for you Northerners," Tyrion said wryly. "You are as tall and beautiful as I remember."

"My lord is kind." She did not like how he was looking at her. There was no desire, just coldness. "Tell me how you ended up as Daenerys Targaryen's Hand."

"A far less interesting story than what you have been up to since you left King’s Landing, I'm sure," Tyrion replied.

"One can look at it that way," Sansa said darkly. "Your father helped defeat her father and yet..."

"You may not have heard but I severed ties with my father somewhat decisively," Tyrion replied jovially though his smile didn't reach his eyes. "When I found Daenerys I was in quite a state. It would have shocked you I'm sure if you were there to see it."

"It didn't matter to her who your father was?" Sansa could not imagine allying with a Lannister after everything.

"The crimes of the father should not be passed down to their children," Tyrion said. "We should be judged by our actions." The tone of his voice matched the coldness of his eyes. 

"We should," she said breezily. "Judging Cersei by her actions, what told you that she would honor the agreement?"

Tyrion was surprised before he masked it. "Cersei is smart, you know that very well. She knows better than to make more enemies than she already has. Everyone is going to remember her betrayal when the war is done."

If most of them don't die, Sansa added in her head. "I suppose you're right.... You've been here before, you know where the guest chambers are."

"I look forward to speaking again, Lady Stark."

Later Bran decided that Daenerys' dragons should stay as he had seen the Night King fashioning more ice spears. The Targaryen decided to come to Sansa's chamber while Lord Manderly led a group of soldiers from all three armies to help with the evacuations. Daenerys looked the room over as she stepped in. Her guards remained at the door, she doesn't go anywhere without them or her dragons who now fly over the castle ever since a man attempted to stab her. 

"It's bare like the rest of the castle," she noted. "Not that that’s bad but it's better than living on the streets."

Sansa felt her annoyance fade. "You were homeless?" She asked surprised. "You don't seem like someone who-"

"I'm much cleaner and less skin and bones now," Daenerys answered sitting. "With the way Jon longed for this place I expected... more opulence."

The irritation returned though Sansa remembered a time she shared those views. "The North has no place for such things." Softening her tone, she added, "My mother felt the same way no doubt. And Samwell, he grew up-"

Daenerys brightened up at the name. "The man who saved my knight. I was told he was here but I have not seen him. I'd love to give my thanks."

"He's been helping our maester." Sansa preferred Samwell to Wolkan, as kind as the latter was, her skin always crawled when she saw him. "I'll ask him to join us during the feast.... You didn't come here for no reason."

"You're the Lady of Winterfell. I thought I will win over the Northerners if you and I have an amicable relationship."

"I don't hate you."

"No, you don't but you disagree with your brother's choice to kneel. I'd like the chance to prove you wrong."

"I certainly can't stop you if that's what you want," Sansa replied trying to force a smile.

Daenerys smoothened her dress and sat up straight. "It might not seem like it but you and I are similar. I was told of what you endured... your husband? The Bolton? It must have been terrible. If you need someone to talk you, I am willing to listen."

For one moment Sansa was breathless with anger. Jon told them, it was why Tyrion's eyes held judgment. They all knew she was ruined.

"I am not comfortable talking about that," Sansa gritted out.

"Oh. Well... the offer stands," the Targaryen said. She stood up. "The man who attacked me, when will he be handed over to me?"

Sansa's mouth dried. "He shall face judgment the Northern way."

"He attacked *me*," the Dragon Queen said sternly. "He is mine to punish."

"He broke the law under my roof. As Lady of Winterfell, I decide what happens to him." Sansa did not know where she got the courage from but she stood and looked that woman in the eye. It was almost like looking at Ramsay again.

Daenerys gave her a strained smile. "Jon is Warden-"

"A decorative title, you should know by now. Your father murdered two of that man's sons and two more died fighting your brother. I will not let him be consumed by another dragon."

A long silence followed before the Targaryen inhaled and said, "I should hope that he suffers for what he has done."

Sansa knew then that she could not allow that man to die. In the chaos of parts of the three armies decamping and readying to move, Sansa held a fake execution behind a hill and burnt a dead sheep with the bodies of five Dothrakis at the same time before sending the man away. 

Afterwards, Sansa sent Brienne to Jon with a note. She went to the Broken Tower to wait for him. It was the first time she had been there since she lit the candle while Ramsay warred with Stannis. Brienne hadn't come as she promised but when she slew Ramsay's men, Sansa stopped caring much. Sometimes Sansa wished Theon hadn't left. It would be nice to have someone to be scared and miserable with. At least with Theon, Sansa wouldn't need to explain herself. Jon took his time but when he arrived, Sansa was tempted to embrace him. He had bathed and dressed in the clean clothes Sansa made after he left for Dragonstone. His face was worn as though a deep fatigue had settled on him.

"Sansa," he breathed and he raised his arms. Sansa felt stupid and needy but she allowed him to hug her tightly. As soon as he let go, he said, "You’re unhappy."

"Please tell me you didn't kneel because- because you love her," Sansa whispered harshly.

"I did not," Jon said in too loud a voice. 

"Not so loudly," Sansa hissed. Varys had not yet appeared in the castle as far as she knew but she also knew to expect ears in the walls by now. "Then why?"

"She saved my life beyond the Wall," Jon said plainly. 

"So did Littlefinger but we didn't hand him the North," Sansa said.

"A near thing... Arya told me you spent days locked inside your chamber with him," Jon said.

Sansa was deeply glad she wore a heavy cloak that would hide her trembling. "Not days. It's not my fault that he would seek me. In the end he died without getting anything from me.... You gave away the North, you didn't even warn me-"

"She's not her father Sansa."

"You don't know that and even if you did, the whole point is that we don't have to hope that one of them is good."

"We need allies." Jon rubbed his face. "We can't face this alone."

"But-"

"*You* haven't seen the Night King and what he can do," Jon said forcefully. "I have. I live with the knowledge every day. Dany agreed to help and she's here doing whatever needs to be done. You don't need to like her but don't undermine our efforts. Please."

Sansa raised her head, fiercely glad that her eyes are dry. "I'll see you at the feast."

Later the other sheep they slaughtered at the execution site was served at the feast. It was small and simple with no singers as they had been conscripted into the army. A few Vale knights too young to have fought in Robert's Rebellion agreed to attend. It was easy for them to be chivalric towards the small woman standing in front of them. Daenerys' smile was the most genuine one Sansa had seen to this point. She accepted their bows and compliments with the grace of someone used to it. 

Bran had only just then left the godswood after spending hours by the trees looking for something. He insisted the cold didn't bother him but his lips were blue and his constantly sniffing.

"There's something I'm meant to find," he said furrowing his brow slightly. "When the Night King touched me through the vision, I saw something briefly. I have to find it if we have a chance of winning."

While Jon and Arya laughed and talked in low voices, Bran could only squeeze Sansa's hand briefly before his eyes turned glassy again. Sansa pretended to be engrossed in her food though she surreptitiously studied the guests. Jorah Mormont was beside a group of northern soldiers who brought Bran and who were now guarding him. At first they ignored him but slowly they began including him in their conversations. Soon he was too busy talking about the Greyjoy Rebellion to gaze mournfully at his queen. Brienne eventually drifted to that group, no doubt finding them more interesting than Sansa. Tyrion drank more than Sansa remembered. He attempted to walk around the room to banter with anyone who caught his eye but he quickly returned to his queen side. It was nothing like the way he commanded rooms in King's Landing, even worse than after his demotion to Master of Coin. Something happened to him though Sansa would not give him any sympathy. 

Samwell Tarly entered the Hall carrying the boy named after him. Sansa knew he raised the child as his own but he was a man of the Night's Watch. The poor child would be so sad if the man who cared for him left and never returned.

"Sam!" Jorah Mormont called out. Samwell gave him a shy smile. "Khaleesi, this was the man I told you about."

Daenerys gave another genuine smile as if she was delighted to meet Samwell. "You have my gratitude... and whatever else you desire."

Samwell laughed awkwardly and shifted the child who seemed to be falling asleep. "I have no desires... well except my family. My father fought for King Aerys. I heard he was one of the lords who agreed to meet with Cersei..." Sam glanced at Jon, "if you could forgive him for that and my siblings. I-I'm sure that if you send a letter, he'll remember his past allegiance."

"My Lord Hand will send it immediately. To Lord-"

"Tarly," Samwell said relieved.

Daenerys froze for a long time. Oh, Sansa thought. Cersei's letter mentioned the food but not who fought and who died.

"What's wrong? Did he," Samwell's tone was panicky, "already fight for Cersei? He's one of your prisoners, right? And my brother too? Your Grace I'm begging you-"

"It's too late for that," Tyrion slurred while pouring himself another cup of wine. He was far drunker than Sansa imagined. "Burnt to a crisp."

Sansa's head snapped at Jon. He was halfway off his seat.

"Sam."

Samwell was turning red rapidly. "If- I'd like to be- I...." He turned and bumped onto a table and then he stumbled his way to the door with Jon at his heels. Daenerys turned her gaze from them to glare at her Hand.

“What?” Tyrion asked looking very confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I modeled the Sam scene after the Hizdahr scene. I was hoping to complicate relationships so that no one was too nice or too evil. Jaime and a few other characters were supposed to show up but I didn't want to make the chapter long so we're saving that for the next chapter since it's important. Sansa does have many issues, some of them are ugly but I hope she's still sympathetic. I'm setting up future conflicts.
> 
> Leave comments please. They are really motivating.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember this is not beta read

[It wasn’t until Sansa returned to her chamber that she remember] to ask after Shae though perhaps that was for the best that she forgot. She had enough ghosts trailing after her, she'd rather not add Shae to that list. It was best to imagine that Shae was in King's Landing helping sad little girls and silently cursing the Lannisters and her lot in life. Besides Sansa had better things to do. She had to plan ahead rather than get caught in the schemes of others again. Though she didn't feel the same staunch resistance to the Dragon Queen as the other lords did, Sansa had no intention of kneeling or handing control over. Surprisingly Daenerys was not the enigma Sansa expected. She carried herself with a lot of power but there was an uneasiness in her face that Sansa just realised, an eerie brightness in her eyes and she was tense the moment she entered the Hall. Perhaps because Daenerys had Tyrion and Lord Varys who no one had seen since White Harbour, she didn’t feel the need to hide all her feelings.

There was a forced composure to her; what happens when that control slips. Sansa had to admit to herself that she was unprepared. She heard Cersei built scorpion bolts for the dragons but how to make some of her own while Lord Varys' many eyes were in the castle? The idea came almost immediately. Sansa dressed up again and ran for one of three forges in Winterfell. It was dark but she could hear men working on the trenches outside of the castle and hammering wood on the other courtyard. The Dothraki camps were loud and they built large bonfires that filled the air with smoke. Sansa was glad someone else showed them how to build fire in the winter; their reputation was something that constantly reminded Sansa of Ramsay, she did not want to interact with them for long. The group that followed Daenerys everywhere she went would stare at her but they stared at everything else, touched the stone walls, tested the armors with their weapons. The Unsullied kept themselves separate from everyone though they were alert and suspicious. Sansa also noticed that they all shivered, coughed and sneezed with high frequency.

Inside of the Forge was a sickening heat. It took a few moments for anyone to notice her, Sansa did not mind much as she was drawn to the mesmerizing sight of molten metal and something much darker. The lowborn man from King's Landing, who Davos spoke for earlier, rushed forward as soon as he saw her.

"Lady Stark."

"Is that dragonglass?" Sansa asked though she knew. "Is it strong? I heard it melts the White Walkers almost instantly."

"I have only seen Valyrian steel do that, Lady Stark," the man said, "are you looking for something?"

Sansa nodded and brushed past him to the small chamber at the back, she waited for him to enter and then she closed to the door.

"Have you heard about the Wall?" She asked.

The man wiped his sooty hands with rag. "Yes."

"The dragon that caused it?" Sansa decided only the lords should do know the truth in case it triggered a riot in Winter Town.

"I do, my lady."

"I need something that can take down that dragon," Sansa said. "It must be strong enough to pierce through…. Tell no one of this and report only to me."

The man looked confused. "Why? Jon ought to know."

The lie came so easily. "He already knows but since he has so many worries, he left me in charge. Bran, my brother, believes the Night King is capable of seeing great distances. You must keep this quiet..." Davis told her the man’s name but in the aftermath of learning the Tarlys' fate, Sansa was too busy watching Daenerys and Tyrion.

"Gendry."

"Gendry, strong name... make as many bolts as you can only with men you trust."

"I will, Lady Stark.... Do you need me to escort you-?"

"No," Sansa said. "I'm perfectly safe within the walls of Winterfell."

Halfway to her chamber, Sansa regretted refusing. Standing under of an archway leading to the courtyard Sansa lived in was the Hound. He was fatter, greyer and sober. Though he had never hurt her before, Sansa was old enough to understand the way he had looked at her and why he came to her chamber during the battle.

"Little bird," the Hound greeted.

"Sandor Clegane," Sansa replied coldly. "The guest chambers are-"

"I know where they are." A short pause. "You should have come with me, would have spared you the Bolton bastard."

Sansa's blood was cold all of a sudden. She felt hatred bubbling in her chest. "Why are you here?"

"Came to fight, what else?"

"For who?" Davos had told her little about the men who went beyond the Wall.

"The Dragon Queen."

Sansa blinked. "You fear fire, you've always feared it."

"Then a dragon swooped in and saved my skin," the Hound said hoarsely. "Never been saved before. I'm no little bird."

It was at the tip of Sansa's tongue to remind him that he was once weaker than her but she walked forward keeping close to the wall in case he tried to grab her. She debated pretending one of other chambers was hers but without a doubt he'll know she resided in the Lord's chamber. Sansa passed by Jon's chamber and was not surprised to see it empty. He probably spent more time in Daenerys' bed than his own. Sansa was too tired to feed the bitterness inside of her especially when she had a good feeling that she would not have nightmares this time.

She woke up soaked in sweat and completely parched. It was one of the worst nights since she started sleeping in this chamber. At one point a monster was knocking on a door made of jade frantically and it frightened her greatly. It occurred to Sansa that perhaps that wasn't a dream, someone might have tried to help her by waking her up but that was impossible, Sansa never screamed. She learnt to be quiet a long time ago. 

It quickly became clear that Sansa would have a long day when Jaime Lannister rode into Winterfell. He did not fly a Lannister banner but anyone would know him on sight. Sansa did not like the way every northerner was looking at him.

"Come inside, there's a meeting," she lied. He got off his horse and looked around the courtyard wistfully. "I must insist you hurry, ser."

He moved without any hurry oblivious to the ugly looks sent his way. One man stood up holding a hammer but he stopped mid step when Sansa glared at him. On the way there, she saw Davos and immediately went for him.

"Keep the Lannister soldiers away from the northerners," she told Davos. He nodded and grabbed two of the Lannister men trailing after Jaime Lannister.

"Where's Tyrion?" the Lannister asked.

"Scarce," Sansa gritted. Tyrion like his queen never went anywhere without guards. No one tried to kill him but many insults were thrown his direction.

"There is no meeting, is there?" 

The Hall was largely empty save for Bran sitting at the head table with Brienne on his right. The Lannister stopped to stare but Sansa didn't care about him. She rushed to Bran to apologise for not warning him realizing half way Bran must have known. Bran's face was pale and emotionless, his hands hidden in all the fur he was wearing. Sansa. Soon the Hall was filling up again as if they were told to attend, this time the workers began taking seats as the many lords had left to either fortify their castles or evacuate them. Daenerys entered after two dozen armed men secured the room. Behind her was Tyrion who brightened when he saw his brother, seeing him smile highlighted how miserable he had been. Daenerys took the Lord's seat treating it like a throne. She turned her glare to the Lannister.

"Kingslayer, you have come to pledge to me."

Jaime Lannister had the nerve to smirk. It grated. "I came to fight as agreed."

"You murdered my father and you tried to kill me-"

"And now we put all of that behind us to present a united front."

People were united more than ever in their hatred of this man. Surely he knew, he could tell no one was happy he was here. Tyrion gave a mollified smile at his queen and spoke in a very friendly voice.

"We had this conversation in Meereen-"

"He personally killed my father, stabbed him in the back-"

"With good reason," Tyrion said before immediately raising his hands. "Your father placed wildfire under King's Landing and he was going to ignite it and destroy the city."

"I don't believe it," Daenerys said quickly. The room was full of murmurs and many seemed to agree with her.

"It's true," Brienne spoke up. She came to stand beside Jaime. "The Mad King's name was well earned. He fed people to flames accusing them of treason he could not prove. The Starks for example."

Daenerys leaned forward, furious. "The Kingsla-"

"You went seeking a truce with the Lannisters. You demanded they send their armies," Sansa said sharply. "Here they are fulfilling their end of the bargain."

Daenerys pulled back and looked a bit surprised at Sansa. "Surely you wouldn't be so friendly with someone who hurt your family-"

Bran said flatly his voice carrying across the room, "Tell me why you came here Jaime Lannister."

The arrogance seemed to bleed out of the Kingslayer's face curiously. "I promised to fight for the living and that is exactly what I intend to do."

Bran held his gaze and it might have been wishful thinking but Sansa thought she saw anger there. "We will not forget the transgressions towards the North but for now we're no longer enemies," Bran declared. "Serve the realm as best as you can."

Daenerys was not happy about that but she kept quiet while the room emptied. Jaime Lannister was escorted by Brienne and he did not seem to mind at all. 

"Lady Stark, I do not appreciate being talked over-"

"Did you not know he was coming? How were you not prepared?" Bran asked. He was not looking at Daenerys and his voice was darker than usual.

"If the North falls, Westeros falls," Sansa said simply. "If we win you'll have plenty of time to settle your grudges."

Daenerys grew tense and gave her a strained smile. "I'll take that into consideration," she said a little too pointedly.

Once she left, Sansa dragged her chair to Bran's end of the table. "How are you?"

Bran gave her a weak smile. "It went better than I expected. It helps I don't feel much anymore," he said. "I wanted to be a knight like him once. I thought he looked more like a king than Robert Baratheon did but he pushed me to my death and didn't feel bad about it. I watched him kill his king, watched him lose his hand, watched him charge a dragon. Not once did he regret what he did to me...." Sansa listen almost breathless. Bran was frowning and he had a different faraway look that was almost contemplative. "What if that is what it means to be a knight? To be cold, to be a killer."

"There are better knights than him," Sansa said. "You've seen them. You just have to remember them."

"I don't like remembering," Bran admitted.

This Sansa understood. "I don't like it either but I'd imagine remembering the good wouldn't wash away the bad but it would make it easier to bear." Though she did not know, it felt true and she wonder if she should try it. "We can try it together."

"We can."

"You know what it means to be a knight better than anybody," Sansa said.

"A crippled boy who never learnt to fight?" Bran's eyebrow was slightly raised and his voice was lighter than she has heard it since they reunited.

"You gave up your mind and your peace so we could win. That's the bravest thing I have ever heard," Sansa said sniffing. "You're a knight, Bran, the truest one of all."

Bran smiled weakly again and the shadow in his eyes that was always there seemed to have passed momentarily. "Thank you, Sansa."

Sansa straightened and then stretched. "I'm surprised Arya wasn't here."

"Something happened," Bran explained. "Jon should tell you. He tried to while you slept."

Oh, so someone was knocking on the door. "Is it bad?"

"Depends on how you look at it."

Sansa did not know if she wanted to search for Jon, not after his words in the Broken Tower. "If he isn't dying, I'll look for him later."

On the way to the chamber for knitting, Sansa heard Brienne's voice coming from an empty storage room and then she heard Jaime Lannister. She was tempted to eavesdrop, Brienne had hinted at something but refused to speak about it. Instead, Sansa knocked on the door and noted that they jumped apart as if they were caught doing something they shouldn't be. The Lannister quickly put on that infuriating smile of his.

"Lady Stark-"

"You will not provoke anyone from this point forward-"

"I have not knelt to you so I wonder how you'll make me-"

"Jaime!" Brienne was glaring at him.

"You will not jeopardize the unity of the armies not with the Night King already attacking villages and keeps." Sansa gnashed her teeth together. "People hate you for a reason, pretending you're above that isn't going to make things better."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "A Lannister," he began slowly, "does not-"

"Look," Sansa cut him off, "don't be a Lannister, don't be the Kingslayer. Be Ser Jaime, be a knight, help us!" The sneer on his face fell off. Sansa didn't wait for a retort, she swept out of the room. Brienne did not follow.

Sansa heard laughter from the chambers she put aside for knitting. The women were knitting as fast as they could working most of the day. Sansa hoped to use some of women fleeing to pick up the slack. She did not like how Daenerys' army was dressed. Though she had not heard of any deaths from their camps, it was bound to happen eventually. Sansa entered inside and did her usual inspection. The women reminded her once again of their worries that there might not be enough fur. Sansa reminded them of the recent hunts and allowed them to think there was enough fur to turn into coats to supply many people. Then Sansa had the same conversation in other chambers.

The training of the children had been paused with the arrival of Daenerys' army but a few dozen still came to the training yard. When Sansa passed by, she saw the Dothraki watching, commenting and laughing.

Later in the afternoon Sansa received news she's been dreading since she saw the dragons. A frenzied man sprinted towards her.

"The dragons snatched two children," he said panting heavily.

Sansa and two dozen men ran but the time they reached Winter Town, all that was left was a small broken leg scotched black. 

"Lady Stark!" A woman with vomit on her chest shouted. "My child! The beast has her, she was still alive."

Sansa sent soldiers to where the dragons were feasting and they eventually returned with grim faces. The mother had grown very quiet by then and she sat on the ground and watched the skies. Sansa not knowing what to do asked that the leg be buried instead of burnt. 

An old man who looked similar to the mother said, "Are we to live like this? My granddaughter," for a moment he broke before he composed him, "I have other grandchildren, where do we put them? Will the dragons burn our houses next?"

A voice called from the crowd that gather. "Is it true the Wall has fallen?"

"Your Grace," cried a scared young girl, "will the Dothraki take us as brides?"

Soon there were dozens of voices shouting, even after Sansa raised her hands for quiet the questions continued. Only after a while they did calm down. Sansa wished Robb was here, he would know what to say.

"No one will take anyone who isn’t willing," she said raising her voice. "The dragons are dangerous but they are here because they can burn through the Night King's army. I cannot tell you about the Wall but please believe we're working hard to make sure you survive this.... The winter cold is now a bigger threat than the Night King. I need more people to make socks, coats and leathered armor."

By the time, Sansa returned to her chamber, it was at night and her feet were aching from standing for a long time trying to get enough volunteers. Jon was leaning on the wall by her door. He looked clean but his eyes were frantic.

"Sansa-"

"Jon, I'm tired," she said reaching for the door handle. Jon took her hand gently.

"Please," he said sounding and looking exhausted. Sansa couldn't refuse him despite her anger.

She followed him to Bran's chamber. Inside Arya was eating on the ground while Ghost laid at her feet and Bran was sitting in front of the hearth. Sansa decided to stand near the door.

"You have been in hiding all day," Sansa said. "Jaime Lannister came, your queen almost had him executed. Have you talked any sense into her?"

"I know I should be helping but I learnt something," Jon said. "And I didn't want to speak to Daenerys."

"Is this about Samwell-"

"Sansa, let him talk," Arya said impatiently.

Jon inhaled and looked into Sansa's eyes. "I know who my mother is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after I posted the last chapter I received a comment accusing me of being a Jonerys stan attacking Sansa which is ridiculous. First of all, if I shipped Jonerys, I'd write it instead of writing a Jonsa fanfiction. Second of all nearly all Dark Dany fics have Pol Jon in them and I wondered what would happen if that wasn't the case. Finally I find fics examining Sansa's trauma to be too few. Usually there's references to rape or mutilation but whatever issue Sansa has, I feel like they're fixed with Jon's love/dick. As a survivor myself, I thought why not write a fic where Sansa is mentally ill in all it's exhausting ugliness and work my way from there.
> 
> This was originally supposed to be 10 chapters with lots of time skips but at the end of each chapter I feel like I have to follow up with all the conflict set up.

**Author's Note:**

> Sansa and Bran are an underrated relationship. I was hoping to fix D&D's ableist bullshit. Yes I am going to do Dark Dany without Pol Jon. This fic is largely sad until the end because I want Sansa's trauma to be examined as well as the difficult relationships in her life.
> 
> I suck at titles but hopefully this one is a good one.


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